


Pumpkin Tales

by fawatson



Series: ITOWverse: Jack o' Lantern [2]
Category: RENAULT Mary - Works
Genre: Gen, Halloween, ITOWverse, Metafiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-13
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-31 19:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6483376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/pseuds/fawatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jan is puzzled when he reads the latest edition of <i>The Renault Times</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pumpkin Tales

His backpack made a loud thud beside his bed as Jan thankfully discarded it. It had been a very long trip home, this time, with seemingly endless delays. Originally he’d planned to be back by the end of October, then Guy Fawkes. He’d just managed to reach Marseilles shortly before Armistice Day, though, by which time he surrendered to the inevitable, and stopped badgering the shipping firm for a faster connection. (He would just have to let things take their course.) His flat was chilly and unwelcoming, and there was a damp musty smell to the clothes he’d left hanging in his wardrobe when he left. Well, he reminded himself, everything had been closed up for nigh on five months. 

One of the problems of his trip taking so long was one tended to run out of clean things to wear as the travels overran. Not to mention the difficulty in having a proper wash on a train (which had been the last part of his journey, in the end, after he had abandoned hope of getting a berth on the fast packet). There was a distinct whiff about him as he made his way through to the communal bathroom. In the middle of the day, at least he should be able to have a nice long soak— 

Jan stopped short as he saw the polite notice on the bathroom door: _“Leak—please do not use bath—plumber coming tomorrow.”_ He closed his eyes in weariness. Vivian lived several hours away, so going there wasn’t really an option. (Having spent so long travelling home, he was damned if he’d leave so soon after arrival.) There was nothing else for it. He concentrated hard, turned round, and found himself at the front door of the clubhouse. He avoided the kitchen and made a beeline through the main hallway to the back door, then down the passage that led to the bathhouse. Other characters—particularly the _lady_ characters from modern novels—might view the facility with doubt; but his travels abroad had imbued _him_ with a fine appreciation of the delights of Turkish baths, and Ancient Greek baths were very similar to their modern-day counterpart. 

He showered quickly to remove the worst of his dirt, and enjoyed a good half-hour in the steam room, before stretching out on a marble slab for a relaxing massage. He’d been more tired than he knew and woke two hours later, slightly disoriented, and feeling distinctly hungry; but someone had thoughtfully covered him with a large towel so he wouldn’t catch a chill. After a quick swim in the plunge pool, Jan dried himself off and dressed in the terrycloth robe a slave provided, before going through to the tea room to see who else was around. It was rather late in the day, so, unusually, he found himself alone. There was, however, a selection of newspapers from the last few weeks. 

He munched on a roast pork sandwich as he read the Spooky stories. He thought nine of them probably set a new record for a response to a challenge. Though ... no, maybe not. Perhaps there had been more written for the five year celebrations. (Stood to reason there would be more then really.) And some of these Halloween offerings were actually pretty short. (Drabbles from FAWatson of all people!) 

Jan looked with even more interest at the glossy colour pictures of pumpkins. The concept was no stranger to him, of course; he had been in Connecticut last Autumn and watched his hosts carve their pumpkin. He rather thought My_Cnnr had outdone herself with her Minotaur. (He wondered what Theseus had had to say about that.)

Inevitably the Straikes had arrived on All Saints to lead a service. Mr Straike always did his duty by this, his second congregation, whether they wanted it or not. His sermon was published in full—though _after_ the centre spread of pumpkins. Jan did not bother to read it. The only other thing in the back pages was a brief article discussing nominations for Yuletide. 

_Yuletide?_

Jan looked back over the pages carefully to see if any were missing. 

No Guy Fawkes celebrations? No Armistice Day story? 

He tossed the _Renault Times_ aside, disappeared to the robing room, and emerged after a few minutes dressed casually in slacks and a pullover. Jan set off, determinedly to find someone to ask.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted to the [maryrenaultfics](http://www.maryrenaultfics.livejournal.com) LiveJournal community under the name "Halloween Stories", but later retitled.


End file.
